Stealing Love
by such a dreamer
Summary: Hermione steals three of Parvati's romance novels, just to see what all the hype is about. However, she finds that she has everything she wants: featuring trashy books and cupcakes.


**Stealing Love**

There a couple of things that Hermione Granger did not know, and no one told her about. She briefly thought of asking Harry and Ron, but that wouldn't do her much good; they were boys. It was much too embarrassing to ask anyone else, so Hermione did what she always did in a time of doubt: she read a large, fine print book. Or at least, she read a book.

In this case, however, it was not a large, educational book. In fact, it wasn't at all a productive use of her time, but Hermione endured it anyway. It was a huge dilemma to get this book, and entailed a distraction down in the common room to divert Parvati and Lavender's attention. With the help of Ginny Weasley (who had followed brilliantly in Fred and George's footsteps), Hermione was able to rummage through Parvati's crate of books underneath her bed without anyone noticing. She grabbed a thick novel, with a blonde haired man posing on the front, and then two others with equally entrancing covers.

She was extremely anxious to devour the three books she had stolen, and spent the entire next day (which was a Saturday, thank goodness) reading up in her dormitory. Hedwig and Pig had come in through her window three times each, with a note attached to their legs, trying to persuade her to come down to the common room. She blatantly ignored them, though, and pulled the hangings around her bed tighter together.

An hour into the book, she couldn't see how reading it was going to help her situation. The plot had started out terribly, and Hermione honestly thought it was one of her worst ideas to steal and read one of Parvati's books.

Half way through the day, and the novel, Hermione was wondering why she hadn't abandoned the book the moment she picked it up. The unfortunate thing was that she couldn't stop reading it; it had sucked her into loving _and_ hating the story. Admittedly, there were sections of the book that had made her blush; but that could have been what she liked about it. Not that she would readily confess to it.

When she finally finished, at seven o'clock in the evening, she was thoroughly confused. She didn't realize that half the things in the book actually happened. She didn't realize they were a reality. Hermione sat up in bed, pushing her messy hair out of her eyes. They _weren't_ a reality, she decided: She was reading a trashy romance novel of Parvati's – nothing more. Just trash.

She went down to the common room to find Harry staring vacantly into the fire, and Ron sitting on the couch beside him. Hermione summoned three blankets from her dormitory, and went over to sit between them. Harry offered a smile in return for her blanket, and Ron draped his arm over her shoulder in a friendly gesture before saying, "Where were you today?"

"Not feeling well," she lied, adverting her eyes. Hermione snuck a quick glance at him before returning to her thoughts.

No, she thought as she felt her stomach drop, the object of her affections most definitely would _not_ chase her from a huge, fancy social event into the pouring rain. He definitely would _not_ say she looked beautiful even though she resembled a drowned rat, and tilt her chin up to kiss her tenderly as the rain came down in sheets.

That's it; she told herself adamantly, I'm not ever going to read another one of those romance novels again. I have better things to do with my time than waste it on complete rubbish.

- - -

She was already a third of the way into the second novel by morning. As much as she knew that she really _was_ wasting her time, she could definitely see how young women got caught up in the books. This time, however, Hermione charmed the front of the book to look like the cover of a Transfiguration text, and made her way down to the common room.

She was reading by the fire when Ron and Harry came in through the portrait hole, carrying a large amount of cakes and pastries from the kitchens. They came to sit by her, and Ron offered her a roll, grinning like a small boy. "I know you love cinnamon rolls, Hermione."

Hermione smiled weakly in return, and took the roll from him and teased, "I like cupcakes better."

"How are you feeling? You shouldn't be studying if you aren't feeling well," Harry asked, sitting down on the couch opposite her. "You should be up in bed, resting until you're better."

"He's right," Ron suddenly realized, and to Hermione's horror, grabbed her 'text' from her hands. "You shouldn't be reading from this stupid thing."

"Ron!" she cried, jumping to her feet. Her favorite redhead, however, was already striding across the Harry's couch, flipping through the pages. "Give it back to me! I'm trying to read – well, _study_!"

"Don't worry," he replied, grinning. He cleared his throat and got ready to read a passage, "It won't kill you to take a break for five minutes. I'll dictate if you want – Lesson One: A Time to Transfigure – _he looked at her hungrily, watching as she removed the strap of her nightgown so it slid down her shoulder_ –"

She shrieked in horror, and launched herself at him, grabbing the novel from his hands. Hermione blushed as he looked at her, and then looked at Harry. "Bloody hell," Ron said softly, with wide eyes, "No wonder you like to study so much."

At this, Harry burst out laughing, and Hermione felt tears of utter humiliation filling her eyes. She looked at her boys (because that's how she referred to them as, _hers_) with her face flaming, and stalked angrily up to her dormitory. Flinging herself down on her bed, she was aware that she might not be able to face either of them again. After a few moments of moping, Hermione figured she had nothing to lose and cracked the book open again. She was more than half way through; she might as well finish it.

- - -

"Hermione, you've got another letter," Lavender said, pushing aside the bed hangings. "Still reading up on Transfiguration, are you? Haven't you ever heard of _Witch_ _Weekly_?"

"Yes," Hermione said impatiently, holding out her hand. Lavender handed her the letter and closed the hangings. Hermione ripped it open, and quickly scanned its contents. _Dear Hermione, we're really sorry we laughed at you earlier…we just had no idea that you were interested in 'those' things…please don't be angry at us for long…if it makes you feel better, my mum has a stack of those disguised as cook books…Fred and George discovered them all two years ago…yours, Ron (and Harry)._

She rolled her eyes and tossed it in her waste bin, where it was overflowing with attempted apologies. She had just finished her second book, and felt exactly the way she did when she finished the first. She couldn't believe women all over the world believed the rubbish they read. These books were really proving to be useless.

There wasn't any way Hermione was going to subject herself to weakness. There was no way she was going to go and sit in an empty room and sob, just to hear the doorknob turn and see her white knight enter the room. There was no way he would wrap his arms around her and kiss away her tears and tell her everything would be all right. Hermione felt sick to her stomach just thinking about it. _Women didn't really surrender themselves to that, did they?_

She snapped the novel shut, and looked at her waste bin overflowing with crumpled parchment. They were just being sweet, she told herself, and she knew they wouldn't tease her endlessly about it. It wasn't like she read them all the time anyway; she had only ever read two and wasn't planning on reading anymore. Well, that wasn't completely true; she thought to herself, she still had one more romance novel to go.

Deciding to face Ron and Harry, she smoothed her hair and made her way to the Great Hall for dinner. They were already eating when she arrived; Harry noticed her first which caused the other to turn around. Ron caught her wrist and pulled, urging her to sit down beside him. He smiled guiltily, "I'm sorry, Hermione. We shouldn't have laughed at you."

She waved it off with a brush of her hand, "Don't worry about it, the idea of me reading a…novel like that _is_ pretty outlandish."

"Not really," Harry said, loading his plate up with more mashed potatoes, "Both the Weasley women read them all the time."

The other two looked at him suspiciously. Hermione asked, "How do _you_ know what Ginny likes to read?"

"Well," he started, and paused for dramatic effect, "I caught her reading one late at night, but she wasn't as clever to charm it into looking educational. I give you credit for that, Hermione – you had me fooled."

"Oh," said Hermione, a little bit stunned, "Well, thanks guys…for you know, understanding."

"No problem," Ron responded, looking at her. "Just, er – don't read them around us, okay? It would be a bit...well, strange, I think."

- - -

The next day was Monday, which was unfortunate for Hermione because she couldn't read as often as she liked. Instead, she was forced to read between classes, from Potions to Muggle Studies, from Charms to Transfiguration. By the end of classes, she wasn't nearly as far in her book as she hoped she would be. Just to make matters complicated, Hermione had overheard Parvati and Lavender talking earlier.

"I can't find my favorite book, you know – the one with that gorgeous Italian on the front?" Parvati had said as they waited for Charms to start. "I've looked everywhere, but I still can't find it. Did you borrow it?"

"No," Lavender said, her nose scrunched in puzzlement, "Did you ask the other girls if they had it?"

"There isn't any point – none of them know I have a crate of romance stories under my bed," she responded, not bothering to keep her voice down.

"Well, I have no idea," Lavender said, shrugging, "Just keep an eye out for it – I'm sure it'll turn up eventually."

"Yeah," Parvati agreed, but was silenced by Professor Flitwick. Hermione made a mental note to inconspicuously return the book by the following evening, just in case Parvati made the connection between her missing book and how much Hermione was reading. Just in case.

After a rather long charms class, Hermione made her way to the library, vowing to make use of her time by wasting it. She seated herself at the most secluded table, put down her book bag and resumed her reading. Hermione judged the length of the book; it was at least a third shorter than the other two – she should have no problem finishing it that evening. It was a good thing she finished her Potions essay four days ago.

"Ms. Granger, I regret to inform you that the library is closing." Hermione looked up to find the strict librarian looming down on her after what felt like minutes, but had been hours. "It's already twenty to ten; shouldn't you be in your dormitory?"

"Yes, ma'am," she responded quickly, standing up without closing her novel. She was so close to finishing…just ten more minutes! With her eyes still focused on the page in front of her, she made her way to Gryffindor Tower. Luckily, she ran into no one on the way and was greeted with an empty common room.

She was at the foot of the stairs when she finished, skimming the last page in impatience. Just as the other two had, she was left feeling rather empty inside. The plot had plenty of emotion, but the climax and finale didn't close in a satisfying way.

Hermione analyzed the book carefully; this one was just plainly outrageous! No one would catch her just as she was about to faint, and carry her in his arms up to her apartment and lay her down on her bed. He wouldn't tuck her in, get a spare blanket from the closet, spread out on the couch and stay until morning, just to make sure she was okay. What rubbish!

No, if anything, the man for her would put his arm around her in a comfortable way, and smile as he brought her food he swiped from the kitchens. He would write twenty-five apologies when he had done something wrong, and when she decided to talk to him, he would apologize still. He would tug at her wrist to catch her attention, and maybe he would even surprise her sometimes, that would be nice –

Hermione stopped thinking for a moment, as she had reached her bed. There were four iced cupcakes on a plate, positioned carefully on her bedspread. She approached them carefully, and noticed a note sticking out from underneath the plate. Hermione smiled when she recognized Ron's untidy scrawl, _Just because…yours, Ron. _

She wouldn't ever read another one of Parvati's books again, she decided, picking up a cake. She had exactly what she wanted, and didn't need a book to tell her that. Grinning, she called, "Parvati, I've just found some books on the floor. Are they yours?"

- - -

FIN

WAIT! READ ME! Yes, another Ron and Hermione fan fiction. I kind of like this one, even though it's a bit sappy, but I could just imagine Hermione being a feminist only to find herself falling in love with Ronniekins. Because they will fall in love, you know. OH, they will. Anyway: I don't own HP. Read and review, please. (POA! Tomorrow! Be there!)


End file.
